Galatea
Eleventh Movement: Carry On, Carry On
"Whoever blushes confesses guilt; true innocence never feels shame."
Jean Jacques Rousseau
Pulling the front door open without even checking to see who had buzzed from downstairs, Satoshi was a little surprised to see one of the last people he'd have expected to be calling upon him standing there before him. "Saehara…san?" he tested warily, opening the front door wider and beckoning his guest into his abode.
The detective gave a curt bow and excused his intrusion as he crossed over the threshold, removing his shoes at the front step-up, and wandered into the living room behind the Hikari boy. "I'm sorry to come by on such short notice—I would've called, but we've been busy down at the station lately, and…"
Satoshi waved him off and offered him a set on the couch, "Not at all, Saehara-san. It's no trouble. Please—would you like some tea? I'm afraid I've not got much more than that to offer a guest right now—"
"Ah no, no…" It was now the detective's turn to wave off his host, "I've actually come for something more than just idle chatter…" His face turned serious—or rather, more serious than it usually was—and Satoshi took this as a clue that they should dive right into whatever conversation the man had in mind, sliding into a seat at the opposite end of the sofa Saehara was situated on.
"As you know," he began in his gruff voice, wringing his hands in front of him, "It's been more than a month now since…since your father's murder." Satoshi nodded, eyes burning holes into the floor. "I don't know how well you've been keeping up with what's been said on the news about it, but…since the night we found him, the search for the culprit has all but ground to a halt. No new clues have surfaced, no new bits of information on a motive, and any suspects we'd had at first have all been cleared and released."
He stopped wringing his hands and instead turned to stare at Satoshi, "But—that wasn't enough for me, to just let something like this rot away inside a police file as an 'unsolved mystery' …So, I…I did some digging into Hiwatari Kei's personal records, from before you joined the force…from before even he joined the force. To see if anyone from his past might have had something to hold against him, and…" He trailed off and began rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "Ah, Hiwatari-san…I came across a packet of…of adoption papers…"
Blue eyes immediately snapped to attention, and like a magnet their gazes were drawn together. Saehara continued hesitantly, unaware of whether or not he was stepping where he shouldn't, "Did you…know you were adopted, Hiwatari-san?"
The boy paused a moment, then in a low voice admitted, "Yes…I did…"
"According to the papers, it was nearly six years ago." A nod, "Where were you…before that? Would you mind telling me anything you know about your biological parents? What was your relationship—or rather, what was Hiwatari's relationship with them?" Satoshi's face washed over with mild confusion at the man's motive, "I'm just investigating the possibility that there might be some connection between the murder and—"
Anger flaring a bit, Satoshi got annoyed and spat out a little more harshly than he'd intended, "Are you implying that my biological parents were the murderers?"
Saehara jumped to defend himself and refute the boy's interpretation of his questions, "No, no! I'm simply investig—"
"I didn't know my parents at all, alright? My father disappeared before I was even born, and my mother died almost immediately following my birth. From then I was raised as a ward of the Hikari Estate, schooled at their northern Academy until age eight when I was adopted by Hiwatari Kei and started high school. I know nothing of them but my mother's name: Hikari Rio."
Saehara's deep brown eyes widened in disbelief—the adoption records hadn't mentioned the child's previous name, so he'd assumed Satoshi had simply been a ward of the state before Hiwatari had adopted him. "Then—those Hikaris! The famous art family, who went into voluntary exile right after the Cultural Revolution? You're—of their line?"
Satoshi nodded solemnly. "As you heard. My biological father may well be dead by now, and my mother most definitely is. So I can assure you with no hesitation that my parents had nothing to do with Hiwatari's murder."
Quickly recovering from the shock and filing the new information away to be pieced through at a later time, Saehara redoubled his efforts, "Your mother, I will accept she had nothing to do with this, if she truly is dead, but… How can you be sure that a man you've never met didn't have some hand in this plot? As it is, he's now one of the prime suspects in my book—there are plenty of reasons for him to carry it out, and as the interim head of police it's my duty to examine this as thoroughly as possible. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."
Satoshi made no immediate reply, merely stood and turned away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his school pants he still had on from earlier that day.
"Saehara-san…" he began in his calm, rolling tenor, "…I would not press this investigation further if I were you…"
He didn't even need to turn around to catch the shock Saehara exuded, he could hear the audible gasp, and then the voice running over with disbelief, "…Is that…a threat…?"
Turning back around to face the detective fully, Satoshi lowered his head in submission, "No…this is no threat on my part…but, there are aspects to Hiwatari's and my histories that…people outside of my family would not understand. We have…bad blood…shall we say."
Saehara stared up at the boy with the same shocked reverence he usually kept hidden, uncomfortable showing it to a child more than half his age. He conjectured softly, "…You know who killed him, don't you?"
A pause, then, "…Yes…"
"Then you know full well," Saehara continued, trying to pull authority on the boy, "that it is against the law to withhold information that could be tantamount to wrapping up this investigation and putting the perpetrator behind bars—you know it, Hiwatari-san." He pushed himself up off the couch and stared down at the Hikari child, unconsciously trying to intimidate him.
Not about to be miffed, Satoshi countered, "And is that a threat?" Saehara gave no response, but growled a little, perturbed. "Tell me, Saehara-san, how old are you?" The man blinked for a moment at the sudden change in topic, but before he could respond, Satoshi fired another question, "Do you remember, forty years ago, when Dark appeared before the police force of this town, stealing artworks just as he is now?"
Saehara nodded mutely, managing to stutter out, "My grandfather used to tell me about him…I was really too young to be interested in any of that back then."
"Would you believe me if I told you that the Dark from forty years ago and the Dark of today are the same being—immortal in a sense, never aging? The same three hundred years ago as today?"
"Thr—three hundred?" Saehara took a step back, and Satoshi one forward.
"Then, if you don't grasp that—tell me this: have you seen the white wings?"
"White…wings…?" He leaned back as Satoshi leaned in—the intimidation of age apparently wasn't working too well for Saehara, who was truthfully starting to become a bit disturbed by the boy's psychological attacks.
"You've seen him, I know—he's been appearing more often lately than he ever has before, I'd wager. You've seen their battles, dark versus light, night and day? The ground littered with black and white feathers that mysteriously dissipate into dust by morning? You've seen him, haven't you?"
"Who is…this 'him' you keep talking about?"
Satoshi shook his head, "All you could know…is that he is a Hikari supporter—you do understand that it is only Hikari artworks that Dark steals, right? He sees it as an affront on the family's honor, so has taken it upon himself to thwart Dark whenever he can. And…much as I hate to admit it…he really is the only one who ever has had, or ever will have…a chance of beating Dark."
"So…a vigilante with a vendetta, eh?"
"Nothing so crude—wouldn't one normally associate a vigilante with good? No…this being may battle Dark, but…he cares not for anyone who gets in his way. Any obstructions blocking him from carrying out his duty…have all met with unlucky fates themselves. Hiwatari was one who made the terrible mistake of crossing his path, and wound up paying for it with his own life."
Saehara became animated now, "Well—then, where is he now? You seem to know a lot about him, so tell me, and we can arrest him and end all this!" Had the situation not been so serious, Satoshi would have been inclined to break into raucous laughter at the detective's stereotypical "hero" character.
A devilish smile that served as an outward reflection of an inner soul intermingling with Satoshi's own crept across his cold lips, "He is dead to this world…he cannot be caught, cannot be punished by human means…and you cannot win against him. Dark is nothing—for Dark has morals, qualms, a sense of right and wrong… He…does not." Well, it was true enough—Krad had morals of a sort, but certainly not ones that could be construed as normal.
Saehara slunk back down to his seat and folded his hands again, getting a bit fed up with the ambiguity and hearing the boy continue to insist that there was nothing that could be done about this. "You know, Hiwatari-san, I could simply get a court order to make you tell the department anything and everything you know about this case…"
Satoshi, too, reassumed his seat beside the detective, "You could," he replied smoothly, not missing a beat, "But then, you would probably not live long." He sighed low and cradled his head in his hands, "You are meddling in affairs that have nothing to do with you, Saehara-san… Hiwatari was meddling as well, and…I don't want to see that happen again if there is anything I can do to prevent it… Especially to you…"
Saehara stood again and gathered his things as if making to leave, but instead he spoke calmly and clearly to Satoshi, "As a commander I grudgingly respected you even though you were less than half my age. I listened to you, followed your orders as best I could, with only the deep-seated trust that you would not lead me astray and would not put me in a situation I could not handle…
"Tell me now that you are telling me the truth—that none of this is simply a ploy to drive me and any other officers off this case—and I will believe you, because I have stood by you all this time and know the real you, know that you would not lie on this to me. Tell me now."
"It's a pity that…you don't know the real me… But I tell you now, abandon this case, Saehara-san. For your own good. Trust that I ask you to do this in good faith. He will be punished, I assure you—but not by you."
The detective merely gave a gruff nod, and with that, he was gone.
"If he so much as blinks, I want him pumped full of bullets, am I understood?" Saehara barked to the ten or so officers on either side of him, smirking at the cornered Dark. "Not quite so cocky now, are you? You're about to get closely acquainted with the Azumano judicial system, Kaitou Dark!"
It was only the threat that if he even opened his mouth he'd be shot that kept the thief silent, preferring to maintain a stoic mien and intact body than saving his pride. Daisuke was starting to give him a headache with his incessant worrying, and where the hell was With? He was starting to get a little nervous for the fluff ball—after all, the sprite was his only ticket out of here. Well, his only easy ticket. If worse came to worse, there were probably a few tricks he could pull that could help him out of this jam, but none he wanted to risk.
Hell, at this point he half-hoped Krad would pop up and distract Saehara so Dark could—
"That's my prey, human." Dark blinked a few times, warily eyeing the form that dropped to the rooftop. "I thank you for pushing him this far, but I do believe I'll take it from here."
'…Damn,' the thief thought with a smile, 'Maybe if I hope for With to get his furry ass down here, he'll pop up like Mr. Tall-Gold-and-Creepy did…'
There appeared to be no need to do such a thing, as Saehara suddenly shifted his attentions, at least momentarily, from Dark.
"Just what do you think you're doing here?" he growled, and half of the guns trained on Dark dropped away, torn as to whom to threaten now. "This is a crime scene—civilians aren't allowed here! Get back downstairs before you're arrested for interfering here!"
Krad shook his head in mirthful pity—aah, how he'd missed being demeaned by the human police force. "I think that the one who ought to step down for his own good…is you." He flashed a sharp golden gaze at the detective, stepping forward quickly until he was right in the man's face. All guns now turned to him, and Krad was mildly impressed that Saehara didn't back down, but held his ground firmly.
"I'm in charge here, and I say—" There was a swift movement in the detective's peripheral vision, followed by the familiar sound of feet slapping against the gravel rooftop as Dark hastened away, leaping off the edge just in time for the recently-arrived-With to latch onto his back and carry him off safely into the night sky. "Dammit…" he cursed, fists clenching at his sides, then turned an angry glare to Krad. "I didn't say anything when you duped officers below me into letting Dark get away…but you go too far when you let him get by me!"
Krad rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I really doubt my being here had the slightest effect on your efforts to capture the kaitou. Now if you'll excuse me—" He propped his wings open, "—the chase has begun and I'll not waste any more time babbling aimlessly with you humans." Turning his gaze to follow Dark's fleeting form trawling lazily along towards the Niwa home, he crouched low and prepared to take wing, when a chorus of clicks reached his ears.
"Same orders for this one as for Dark," Saehara announced, boring his gaze into Krad's, "He so much as drops a feather, take him out."
"I really don't have time for this—put your weapons away. Now."
The detective stepped forward and leaned into Krad's face, anger evident in his features. "I don't give a damn whether or not you have time." He spared a nervous glance to the wings, still open and wavering back and forth in the light breeze as the Hikari curse steadied himself. "Whatever you are…you've stuck your nose in police business one too many times, and I'll have you take some responsibility for it."
His hand shot forward and gripped Krad by the wrist, jerking him forward towards the other waiting officers. As Saehara had his back turned, he missed the murderous look flash across the blonde's features as he fought back the urge to fell the detective then and there.
Digging his boots into the gravel, he hastily jerked his arm back and growled, "How dare you touch me!" He spun Saehara around with lightning celerity and gripped the man by the collar, lifting him up until he was standing on his toes.
"Don't—don't shoot!"
Krad smiled at the hastily babbled order, pulling Saehara nearer so that they could converse in whispered tones. "You've deprived me of my chase tonight…I'm not allowed them often, you know… I should very much like something in compensation." Saehara remained tight-lipped. "Perhaps I should simply toss you off the side of this building, ne? A nice long fall down to contemplate the ramifications of your detaining me?" He took a step backwards, pulling Saehara with him, "How does that sound?"
The detective had but a moment to consider just what Krad was proposing before the blonde clenched his eyes shut tightly, stopping in his tracks and shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "St—stop it! Sat—cease your infernal nagging!" Saehara blinked, confused. "I wasn't—but he—!"
As if he'd been shocked by the detective, Krad released him and shoved him away with all speed, sinking to one knee and clamping his hands to the sides of his head. "There! Just—stop—"
The detective wasn't quite sure what to make of the scene and waved a hand behind him for the officers to lower their guns. After a moment, the blonde angel before them stopped his shaking and quieted, slowly rising to stand back upright. He turned a hard gaze to Saehara, graceful features twisted into a frighteningly fierce frown.
"Fine…" he huffed, uncharacteristically bereft of breath, and narrowed his gaze at the man. "But I'm only letting you live because he asked me to…" Before Saehara could ponder just who "he" was that Krad was referring to, the white wings crashed downward with a single furious beat, flinging gravel into the air and momentarily blinding the officers before they could even aim. With a few more down-strokes, Krad had risen a good ways into the air and was winging his way back to the apartment.
"Just leave him…" Saehara sighed, defeated, as he watched the white-winged form flit away—depriving him of anything to show for the night's work. He ordered his men back downstairs so that they could wrap this evening up, offering a weak apology to the curator, who was seething at having the prize exhibit stolen not a week after it had come in.
He climbed into the back of the long black limousine waiting in the courtyard and ordered the driver to make for the downtown precinct—after all, he still had a report to file for presentation to his superiors the next morning. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and sighed softly.
"But I'm only letting you live because he asked me to…"
He twitched—what about that simple statement had bothered the detective so?
"Then, if you don't grasp that—tell me this: have you seen the white wings?"
Troubled brown eyes shot open, brows knitting in worry. "…There's no way…"
"Who is…this 'him' you keep talking about?" he'd asked of the boy, and remembered now that he hadn't exactly received a straight answer. Things were starting to get a bit too coincidental for Saehara's comfort, and each conclusion he drew was more disturbing than the last. Eventually, though, he settled for doing exactly as he'd been asked and dropping the matter; he did trust Satoshi not to divert him from a situation the detective was capable of handling.
"You really are full of mysteries, Hiwatari Satoshi-san… I just hope you can handle them."
'You're going to be late if you dawdle much longer, you know… The notice said 9 o'clock, and it'spast 8:30 now…'
"I know, I know…" It was over a week later, now, and the night of Krad's final advance notice was at hand—he had to prove himself tonight or risk being forced back into Satoshi's mind for good, as per his word. Krad dusted invisible dirt from his long robes, readjusting his sash in front of the closet mirror and turning around to view himself from all sides, "But it certainly won't hurt anything to give him a chance to think he's home free tonight… I rather like making grand entrances, you know. And I've not missed a battle with him yet since our agreement."
'Right, right…' Satoshi relented his reminders, convincing himself that even if Krad was late, it was all for the better—these late-night battles at every museum or old house Dark had sent a warning notice to had apparently started to take their toll on Daisuke, who hadn't been in very good shape to sustain injury in the first place like Satoshi.
Krad frowned at his reflection and lowered his arms from trying to straighten his cravat—it was a losing battle. The garment simply didn't seem made for the physical plain, and it was dreadfully restricting right now, stifling despite the chill outside Satoshi's apartment.
'Are you quite done yet? That's got to be the fifth time you've messed with that thing—and it's just going to get in the way in the fight anyway—'
"Patience, Satoshi-sama, patience…" He rubbed his chin in thought and cocked his head at his reflection, a devious grin lighting up his golden eyes, "I've got a whim I'd like to indulge."
'A "whim"…?'
Having not yet pulled on his gloves, Krad reached up to the dratted cravat and slowly untied it, pulling it from around his neck and letting it fall to the floor—where it dissipated into fine astral dust before touching down. With it disposed of, he let his fingers fall down to unbuckle the belt at his waist, whipping it off in a single fluid motion.
His heavy jacket now hung free from his shoulders, drooping down, and he deftly slid his arms from it and let it too fall with a soft poof onto the floor, watching in amusement as it dissolved into dust like the other articles of clothing. Turning his eyes back to the mirror, he noted that he could probably keep this undershirt—it was a light fabric that didn't restrict his movement in the least.
But, while he was at this, he might as well have some fun…
'What're…you doing? Krad?'
"What does it look like, Satoshi-sama? I'm changing clothes."
A pause, as his Tamer no doubt ran the statement over in his mind, perplexed at associating Krad with some fashion connoisseur who tried on outfit after outfit before deciding on some extravagant ensemble.
'But…why? You always wear the same thing—'
"And that's precisely the reason—after three hundred years I'm a little bored. Like I said, it's simply a whim, I felt like doing something different tonight." He paused a moment, arms crossed as he stared into the mirror, then pressed, "Do you have some objection to that, Satoshi-sama?"
'Of—of course not! Why would I—I mean, why would I care?' His defensive mental voice only served to make Krad smile, though, and he shrugged and continued with his ritual.
His hands flew up to his neck and teased the top button, and he could feel something stirring in the back of his mind—he smiled devilishly. There was no way he would fight Dark unprotected by his astral wear—but what that astral wear covered was entirely up to him, so why not see how far his chain stretched until Satoshi-sama reined him in?
The first one popped off, and he could feel a cool breeze flowing in from the window caressing his exposed neck now—a sensation he could never experience in the astral plane. The next lower button soon followed, and another right below that, until a triangle of the flesh of his upper pectoral area stood exposed to the elements, the skin—pale as it was—still contrasting with the thin shirt, hardly disguising any curves he touted.
He closed his eyes and let his fingers rest on the next button, lips curling into a knowing smile.
"…Do you like what you see, Satoshi-sama?"
An inaudible gasp shook his mind, reverberating through his being as his host's consciousness erupted, 'Wha—NO! I wasn't—I mean, I was just—you thought I was watching!'
"No…" Krad responded slowly, a perfect mirror to Satoshi's wound-up present mental state. "I know you were—" He dropped his hands to rest on his hips and leaned forward so that even more of his chiseled chest was reflected for the boy behind his eyes to see, "Shall I do it more slowly, or did you get a good enough look the first time around?" Though he could not see the reaction, he would have bet the entire Hikari fortune that his host was blushing a more violent red than the Niwa boy's hair color.
Satoshi wanted to offer another scathing retort to this, but checked himself before the thought left his form and entwined itself in Krad's consciousness—it was, he assured himself, merely a ploy on the blonde's part to rile him up even more…Forgetting the fact that…well, he had been watching…but it—it wasn't anything like that! Really!
…Really, it…it wasn't like he'd meant to stare…at first. He'd just, never seen Krad change clothes—more so, he'd never seen Krad do anything that was, well, normal. It seemed all he'd thought his curse capable of was throwing punches and taunting him. When he stood in front of that mirror, so open, simply another human stripping to change outfits, as normal as can be…it was like this was a completely different being from…from the person who'd killed his father.
He shifted his attentions from those thoughts back to Krad, pondering if he'd finished yet—but it seemed far from it. He was only now drawing on a waistcoat (where had that thing come from anyway? It certainly wasn't from Satoshi's closet). The material seemed fine as silk, and he would dare conjecture it was. It shone with the tell-tale sheen of that fabric, appearing not solid but a liquid concoction of some molten metal, charcoal gray in hue. It provided a sharp contrast to the button-up shirt beneath it, still open and exposing his chest—wait…
'You're not going to take that undershirt off?' he questioned innocently. While his curse was changing his wardrobe, why hadn't he gone "full out" on this whim of his?
…Wait a minute…had he just asked…
Yes, yes he had, he suddenly realized, when two golden eyes slowly lifted their gaze from trying to adjust two buttons on the vest to look directly through into Satoshi inside, and Krad smiled his most devious smile yet, "Did you just ask me…to take off my shirt, Satoshi-sama?" he queried almost giddily, and for the second time in five minutes the Hikari boy exploded into an explanation to refute it.
'LIKE HELL! You just—you misunderstood me! AGAIN! I—I just meant, dammit—if you're changing everything I didn't understand why you left that on too! THAT'S ALL! And you were unbuttoning it, so I thought you were going to—'
"Strip for you?" Krad could start to feel the blush burn through and sear his own cheeks, though it was through no action of his own, simply the strengthened feelings of his Tamer spanning planes. "Really, Satoshi-sama, all you had to do was ask…"
'You did that on purpose! You started unbuttoning that damn shirt knowing I'd wonder that! DIDN'T YOU?'
Krad's expression waxed innocent, a very odd face indeed for the blonde to wear, "You really think I'd sink that low, simply to draw a reaction from you?"
'YES.'
Face softening into a light smile, he simply replied, "You can be so adorable at times, Satoshi-sama. It's very becoming—you should indulge that side of you more often." He could still feel the frustration-meter inside rising, and continued nonchalantly, "But don't take it so seriously…you speak as if I should be offended or something that you were watching me, when you of all people should know I don't care."
There was a pause, and Krad finished the buttons on the vest, straightening it in the mirror, and deeming it a fine contrast to his white breeches and undershirt—now, for the coat.
"After all, wouldn't you think it a tad hypocritical of me, if when I watch you so often, I rebuffed you when you watched me? It's rather something of an honor, you know—that you would gift me your attention if but for a few moments."
Grimacing inwardly at the admission, Satoshi pondered mentally, 'You…watch me?'
Krad stared into the mirror and smiled again, "As I said before, you really can be so adorable in your innocence, Satoshi-sama…even if it is feigned."
With that he turned his attentions to the airspace to his left and held his hands out full in front of him, palms facing outward, and closed his golden eyes in abject concentration. A waistcoat was one thing, but a full pleated coat would require a bit more work on his part—just a bit more, mind you.
His long mane danced in a breeze from nowhere, flying out behind him as a tiny tornado materialized before him, a wind vortex leading to the astral plane. Eyes shooting open, Krad thrust a hand in and gripped his fist tight over a sheet of material, yanking it into the physical realm with a great tug.
Staggering backwards, quickly banishing the vortex away, he held the jacket out full in front of him, admiring it from afar. "Not bad at all, I think…what do you say, Satoshi-sama?"
Shooting back to attention, Satoshi too eyed the garment (so that must have been where the mysterious waistcoat came from…), but after sticking his foot into his mouth once already, he deemed it unwise to make another comment for fear he'd undergo even more teasing. He instead opted to sit in a corner of Krad's consciousness and sulk until the night was over, but this didn't seem to bother his curse in the least.
"Well, silence is consent, I suppose." With that he whipped the jacket around and slid his arms into it. It was shorter than his previous one, allowing him better movement, and more open as well, tapering at the waist to flare out into two tail sections at the hem. The white color, embroidered with elaborate braiding near the cuffs, seemed to compact his body, connecting with the white undershirt, yet still contrasting with his charcoal waistcoat.
Giving himself one more glance over, he finally deemed himself prepared to battle Dark once more and shot his eyes to the clock on the bedstand—8:50, ten minutes to reach the museum. He stepped over to one of Satoshi's large bay windows, boots clopping loudly on the hardwood floor, and flung one open, letting the cool early-Spring night breeze ruffle his hair.
He closed his eyes again for concentration, and muttered a soft numbing spell before calling forth the great white wings he was blessed with from the astral plane where they normally rested. He had to turn around slightly to acknowledge their emergence, since he could not feel them while under the numbing spell (though this was more desirable than actually feeling the things rip from his back, a sensation he'd subjected Satoshi to countless times before, now regretting them all).
The wonderful thing about the astral materials he was now clad in was that even when they suffered damage—say, holes, from two huge wings ripping through his shirt—any successive time he wore them they would be repaired, good as new. Physical attacks seldom damaged astral threads, so they could always be rewoven.
Stretching the appendages in preparation, he let his eyes wander over the night skyline of the Azumano district, a dark sea of oblivion mottled with bright blips of light, signaling life in the seemingly dead shadows.
"Satoshi-sama…" he called tentatively, and he could sense the boy stirring from his corner, annoyed at being called.
'What is it now?'
Krad paused, almost afraid to ask his question, but it had really been quite some time, and…well…
"Do you…hate me still?"
He could feel the Hikari child tensing up like a drawn bowstring, pulling himself inwards and avoiding any contact with Krad's own consciousness, afraid of contact…but for an unknown reason. 'I…'
He…what? Satoshi himself had to ponder the question—"Do you hate me still?" He remembered only too well the previous occasion on which Krad had asked him this question, and also remembered his scathing (yet he believed still it was correct) retort of "Yes".
But that was then, over a month ago—and though that may not seem like a long time at first, so much had happened in that month. He'd quit the police, all but cut himself off from Niwa, let Krad battle Dark whenever he wanted, lost a father, gained a father-figure in Niwa Kosuke…
And Krad himself…had changed… With each new day was some new aspect revealed to him, some side he'd never noticed before—or else refused to notice. Ever since their compromise, he'd become more tolerable, no—before that, even. He would dare even say that Krad had begun to change when Satoshi's feelings had been invalidated by the Niwa boy, "freeing" him from any challenge.
Did he really…hate him? Like he hated him before, with a deep rage that never ran tepid, that burned him, ate away at his soul, hounded him until he just didn't want to hate anymore? Did he still hate Krad—like that?
'I…don't know…anymore…'
He could feel the corners of Krad's mouth twitching upwards—the sure beginnings of a smile, and he spoke softly, content, "Then…that is enough for now…" and took off into the night sky.
Well, this was certainly something new.
He knew, even as he felt control over his body being ceded back, that he would have to face Krad and give him an answer. He'd allowed him his three advance notices, as he'd said he would, and those three notices had come and gone, as notices tended to. With one problem, on this last one…
The blonde slipped into his astral form almost as soon as he'd lost control over his Tamer's body, eager to get on with their conversation. Satoshi could almost physically feel the anticipation radiating from his curse as he steadied himself from his seat on the bed. Krad stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, staring down at his host expectantly.
Satoshi closed his eyes and sighed, making every effort not to acknowledge the fact that Krad had done, for the first time this incarnation, that which the Hikari boy himself couldn't do:
He'd actually managed to save an artpiece.
Ridiculous! Without killing or terminally maiming his enemy, the blonde had finally thwarted Dark and kept him from his current quarry, the Yami no Yari—another of the Hikari war-works. The Ragun Museum had been ringed in police cars, with officers stationed at every entrance—there had even been a group guarding the coveted spear itself!
Maybe it had been because there was no Officer Norita to distract him this time; maybe Dark hadn't been feeling well, or perhaps it had been Niwa who'd been the sick one—there was that cold going around, after all. Perhaps it had just been pure damn luck and underestimation on Dark's part.
Or was that not the case at all? Could it have simply been that Krad was more motivated this notice? That he had more to lose? It had been the last he'd stipulated he'd allow unless the blonde gave him good reason not to. Irregardless…
He just couldn't look up into those eyes, didn't want to see them all but smirking in triumph and waiting for some acknowledgement, couldn't stand admitting that yes—he'd been bested, beaten by his own curse.
Didn't he have something he could distract himself with? Yes—yes, there were those exams coming up, and surely his tutoring charges would be pleased with some sort of study guide, right? Of course they would. He would get right on that.
Satoshi heaved himself up quickly and slipped out the door, nearly crashing right through the image as it struggled to be noticed. If he'd glanced up at Krad's face as he brushed past, he might have noticed the features twist into something akin to a pout, then wash back normal as the blonde changed his line of attack.
Gathering up his papers and books by the door, Satoshi slumped onto his couch, donning his glasses for no particular reason other than to simply place another barrier between himself and Krad. He picked up the first book he set his hands on—Masters of the Neo-Renaissance: The Cultural Revolution in Northern Japan—and began hastily leafing through it, highlighting a few sentences every now and then.
He could feel those curious golden eyes boring into the top of his head, eyeing him hungrily as a cat might eye a little mouse it was playing with. 'Don't rise to the bait,' Satoshi warned himself, 'Just keep ignoring him—you know he's not gonna ask you outright, so if you just keep your mouth shu—'
"What do you want?" Dammit…
And to his surprise, Krad gave no verbal response, prompting the boy to slowly turn his gaze up to view the image lounging at the opposite end of the sofa. 'Ah, nothing really…' came the slow reply, and the blonde crossed his arms, gaze drifting aimlessly around the room as if he had nothing better to occupy his time with. 'Just wondering—that's all. Wondering what you thought Dark's next target might be. Since, after all, he failed to obtain the Yami no Yari.'
Satoshi gave an involuntary twitch and slammed the book shut, moving on to the next one.
'Why are you working on schoolwork at a time like this, Satoshi-sama?' The boy jumped in surprise and whipped his head around—Krad was standing behind him now, looking over his shoulder. Frowning at the interruption, Satoshi settled back in his seat. 'You must be tired after all that fighting I did with Dark this evening. Rescuing that work and all…'
Satoshi desperately wished he had a desk to bang his head on at that moment. Why did his curse insist on doing all this begging for his attention tonight? He'd acknowledge the deed when he was good and ready! Sitting straight up, he gave up on looking through the new book he held and reached over to the table for a packet of notes he'd prepared.
Except Krad had his image in the way, right on top of his papers. "I can't see—move," Satoshi grumbled. When his curse didn't immediately comply, he sighed loudly and looked up with a glare, not too surprised to see a mischievous grin playing along the lips of the blonde. "I said move, dammit. I have work to do."
The grin faltered a bit, but Krad would not be put off so easily. 'I understand. I'm quite tired myself. I'd help you file those if I could, but I've already been out this evening, you know. Fighting Dark…beating Dark…'
Gods, could his curse be any more obvious? Subtlety didn't appear to be Krad's strong point. Deciding it was too late and giving up on trying to get any work done for the rest of the evening, he shoved his papers off beside him and stood up, hands fisted at his sides.
What was he supposed to say? Was he expected to offer the blonde a blinding smile and mental pat on the back? Should he, instead, forgive him all his trespasses thus far for this one accomplishment? Was this supposed to show Satoshi the "good" side of his curse?
Grudgingly, he looked up at Krad, who was all but bouncing in place awaiting his judgment. "I…" He reached down to fiddle with the hem of his shirt in a nervous habit. After swallowing a few more times, he gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath.
"Well…well done." Swallow. "I was…pleased with…your performance—with your protecting the piece!" he quickly amended the statement, well aware that he would do well not to supply the blonde with any potentially innuendo-laden remarks. Especially remarks meant to praise.
The golden eyes danced merrily, and Krad didn't even attempt to hide the smile that now crept over his features. '…And?' Satoshi narrowed his eyes in confusion—had he not already offered enough on his approval? '…About…the next notice?'
Oh yes, that.
He slumped back down onto the couch, letting his head fall wearily onto the cushions. Covering his eyes with an arm so that he wouldn't have to look at Krad directly, he muttered just loud enough to be heard, "…If I let you out again…will you stop being so damn bothersome?"
Krad blinked a few times in rapid succession, 'Well you weren't quick to start any conversation regarding tonight's notice—someone had to.' He settled down on his knees, leaning forward until his face was uncomfortably close to Satoshi's own, who'd uncovered his eyes when he sensed his curse moving about. 'So does that mean you'll let me? That you were proud of how I behaved this evening, and so you're considering a repeat performance?'
Satoshi pushed himself up—half in indignation and half to put some distance between himself and his curse, "I didn't say I was pr—stop putting words in my mouth!"
Krad leered, not moving from his spot. 'Then what would you have me place in it, Satoshi-sama?'
Red burst forth across the boy's cheeks, and he shook with anger. "You are this close to making me drop that agreement again—I swear I will, you damn pervert. Don't think I forgot how you made me tell you about that—that—stupid dream. Because I know you had something to do with it, and if I ever find out what,I'll find some way to keep you from so much as projecting. I'd beat you to within an inch of your life if I could touch you—"
'Ooh, what a tease, you are, Satoshi-sama,' was the witty reply. 'I'll bet you say that to all the family curses.' The glare simply hardened, and Krad finally backed off, pushing himself into a standing position and holding his hands up in defeat. 'I yield! A simple statement to reassure me that our accord is still standing and I will leave you for the evening.'
"Fine—whatever," he blew the blonde off, "When Dark sends out his next notice, I'll allow you to attempt to stop him again—"
'But I beat him this time, don't you remem—?'
"Now will you leave me alone? I told you what you wanted to hear."
Krad stood stock still for a moment, looking down at his host, then gave a low bow and broke into a soft smile, causing the boy to unconsciously shiver. 'With pleasure, Satoshi-sama. Thank you.' With that, he flickered from existence, retreating into his tiny cloister in a corner of the Hikari child's mind.
When he was finally sure he was alone, Satoshi allowed himself the grace of a small smile, one he wouldn't have dared allow Krad to see. In a way, it had been amusing to see his curse's vain attempts to win his attentions for a moment rather than forcibly taking them as he usually did. Krad had waited—not patiently—for Satoshi to start the conversation, and that…actually meant something to the boy.
Yes, it meant something…he just didn't know what.
Author's Notes: Well, it certainly seems you all enjoyed the last chapter; I'll have to keep that in mind for the future grin Thanks SO much for these great reviews, guys, it feels wonderful to see your reactions to the little twists and turns the story takes, and the fanart was great! Hahaa, this is the first story I've ever gotten fanart for, and that really means a lot to me. I must say the next few chapters are my personal favorite ones, so I hope you all enjoy them as well. Next week: Remember that ring Kosuke gave Satoshi...?